


Pretty Boy in Pretty Pink

by MysticalShizz



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Asahi in a Skirt, Bottom Azumane Asahi, Feminization, Fluff and Smut, Other, Power Play, Shameless Smut, Smut, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:07:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28671987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysticalShizz/pseuds/MysticalShizz
Summary: “ Asahi was a sight for sore eyes. With the initial shock of seeing him like this long gone, you take your time admiring him, running your gaze from the top of his head to the bottoms of his feet in a way that makes him squirm.”Asahi in a skirt, riding the reader’s thigh. What more can I say.
Relationships: Azumane Asahi/Reader
Kudos: 56





	Pretty Boy in Pretty Pink

The sight waiting for you in the bedroom almost makes you gasp. It certainly makes your heart stop for a moment, as you take a moment to openly ogle your boyfriend. Your fidgeting, blushing boyfriend, perched in the center of your shared bed. With a slow breath in, you feign a look of indifference, leaning back against the doorframe. Asahi was a sight for sore eyes. With the initial shock of seeing him like this long gone, you take your time admiring him, running your gaze from the top of his head to the bottoms of his feet in a way that makes him squirm. 

He’s facing the wall to your right, kneeling with his legs folded under him. The pink pleated school skirt he has on covers most of his thighs, but under it you catch a glimpse of the white fishnets he wears, almost covered up by white thigh high socks. His hands are bunched tightly on the tops of his thighs, the veins visible and knuckles pale. You can see the tendons in his forearms shift as your gaze moves up to his heaving chest. 

While the two of you had purchased the skirt, stockings, and socks together, you had never seen the corset before. It was sheer white, starting just above his belly button, with white boning directing you up, up, toward his chest. The material cupping his chest was reminiscent of a bralette, with a delicate lace design hiding his nipples from view. Asahi truly looked ethereal. 

His face was almost completely shrouded by his hair, which was loose, fanning around his shoulders. If it weren’t for the occasional minute movement of his head, almost like he was convincing himself that you were still there, you may have thought that he was unbothered with the way you observed him. 

How long had you stood there, just watching? Minutes? Hours? It must’ve felt like an eternity to Asahi, whose blush spread further the longer you stayed silent. 

Clicking your tongue, you finally broke the silence, “Well, this is a surprise.” Taking your eyes off of him, you focused on getting out of your work clothes. Placing the dirty clothes where they belonged, pulling out your night shorts and shirt of Asahi’s. You took your time getting dressed, pulling your hair into a more comfortable style, removing all of the dirt of the day from your face. The two of you would shower together later, and this wasn’t about getting clean, it was about prolonging Asahi’s suffering. 

When you finally turned back to the bed, Asahi had widened his stance and was slowly, almost like he was trying to hide it, grinding down on the bedspread. The bark of laughter you let out had him frozen in his tracks. It took him a moment to look directly at you, but the look of fear in his eyes made up for it. If anything, his actions solidified the course of the night, as you walked right past him to sit comfortably against the headboard of the bed. 

“If you don’t want to be my good boy,” Asahi released a loud whine, “then you won’t get a good boy’s reward.” You could see the slight sheen of tears building in Asahi’s eyes, but paid no attention to it. Pointing a lazy finger at your left thigh, you settled further into the bed. 

He hesitated for half a second, before crawling up the bed to straddle your thigh. When he sat down, you couldn’t help but go a little feral; his skin was so hot and he was leaking all over you. Shooting up, you grabbed a handful of his hair with your right hand, and a handful of his ass with your left. His reaction was instant, tilting his head back and releasing a high-pitched moan, his hips jerking a little, trailing precum up your thigh. 

Leaning back, Asahi is forced to arch his back to reduce the strain from the grip you have on his hair. When you growl, you can see the goosebumps appear on his skin, you see the full-body shudder, and feel the twitch of his dick against your thigh. 

“Ride.” You growl, and Asahi immediately begins grinding frantically against your thigh. Every now and then he lets out a hiccuped little whine between the steady moans of your name and “please” that he can’t seem to hold back. For a moment you consider gagging him, taking the hand from his hair and pressing two, maybe three, fingers into his mouth. You imagine feeling him choke, seeing the tears stream down his face as he stares directly at you, almost pleading with you to remove your fingers or push them deeper, he doesn’t know. You banish the thought, he got dressed up so pretty for you, he deserves to let out his cute little noises. 

It’s always a gift seeing your boyfriend like this; he’s so big, so strong, that there’s something so gratifying about reducing him to this. Since commanding him to move, you haven’t said anything more. You’ve been too busy digging your fingers into the meat of his ass, feeling the flex of his thighs as he humps your leg, yanking his hair when he curls too far in on himself. You know that Asahi needs verbal validation to cum, and the longer you stay silent the more frustrated he becomes as his release approaches, but never fully arrives. 

When he speaks, it’s in a high pitch you have come to associate with times like this, “Please? Haven’t I been good?” His breath stutters a bit as you bounce your leg slightly, and his voice turns whiny, “I’m your good boy, right?” 

Releasing a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, you figure it’s been long enough, and the verbal dam opens. You rub light circles into his scalp, and let him know how good he’s being, how pretty he looks all dressed up for you, how he’s been doing so well. The hand grabbing his ass moves to his hip, guiding him along as you continue to shower him in praise. 

Moving the hand from his scalp, you place it on his neck, making sure your fingers are in the correct position before lightly squeezing. From where your palm is just above his throat to make sure you don’t harm his windpipe, you feel him swallow multiple times. He’s close. He just needs one more push. 

“C’mon baby, isn’t my little princess going to make a mess of his little skirt for me?” 

Under his closed eyelids you’re positive his eyes are crossed, his mouth open so you can fully hear his little punches out moans. As his hips begin to falter along your thigh, you release his throat, and that’s when it hits him. When he comes, he curls in on himself, his forehead resting on your shoulder as he lets out a high keen. You can see the damp patch on the front of the skirt growing, his hips jerk involuntarily while he rides out his orgasm. 

Asahi pants in your grasp, curling further into your body as you resume massaging his scalp, your other hand curling around him to rub circles into his back. Asahi is practically purring in your embrace, sweat cooling and the mess on your thigh becoming tacky. As his breathing returns to normal, you roll so his back is on the bed, before getting up. When you look at him, he has a loopy grin on his face, his legs are open and still shaking slightly, but his skirt is still in place. He looks so relaxed, and you hate to walk away from that image. But there was a mess to clean. So you continued walking to the bathroom, first cleaning off your leg, before grabbing a damp towel and some clean underwear for Asahi. 

Once Asahi is all clean, left in just his underwear and the corset, you finally decide to bring it up. 

“When did you get the corset?” 

He shifts in your hold, looking more embarrassed about the corset than when he was humping your leg, “Oh, uh, Suga actually got it for me. I think it was a gag gift...” He trails off, pressing his face more firmly into your neck. 

He doesn’t expect your giggle, jerking backward to stare at you, bewildered. “I think we might have to get more for you, it looks really good.” At that, he sputters, all of the confidence from earlier gone. He lets you draw him back in, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and whispering affirmations to him. Yeah, the two of you would be doing this again.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Twitter @MysticalShizz   
> 💕


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